AN: This is for two ladies who are going through a rough time at the moment. I hope this helps. Love to you both. X

And thank you to everyone else for your kind reviews! X


He focuses on her ponytail.

Swish swoosh, back and forth as if waves of invisible currents were batting it purposefully side to side.

They're descending through the foliage, down the same path they had come - Olivia in front, warning off stray branches darting out at her from all directions. Left. Right. Low. High. He hadn't thought past divulging the case details out here and now having her sneaker clad and on edge in the middle of the wilderness wasn't the most comforting thought.

He wants to tell her to slow down, to take a breath – that she's going to trip on a stray rock but he knows how that will be received. Instead he just follows closely behind, his hands rejecting the same foliage she sends careening back at him.

Swipe, swipe, bat, bat.

He watches her form disappear around a bend, the distance between them suddenly lengthening when he catches sight of her again. Then it's an irrational feeling that hits, she's going to take off like she's a caged animal that's just escaped after years of captivity. He starts into a fast jog, and it's a few turns later when he gets closer, their sharp breaths overlapping as he comes up behind her, swish, swish, bat, bat, swipe, swipe – boom!

He cops a branch right in the nose causing him to drop back a few paces as he holds his nose checking it for blood. The unforgiving sun pierces through the tall trees above him, causing perspiration to seep down his exposed neck and arms.

He cannot lose her or Cragen will have his ass.

He zeroes in on her ponytail like it's a marker, watching as she weaves and ducks through the path ahead of him.

Swoosh swoosh, swish swish.

His eyes fall downward when he feels the track change, thick raised tree roots snaking across their path.

He is still repelling branches like it's a goddamn whack-a-mole when she stops suddenly at the apex of an incline. He doesn't have time to stop and rams into her form, his arms grasping her around the waist from behind, both of them nearly falling down the steep track. She calls out as he steadies their bodies just in time, dragging her a few steps back from the edge.

She is deathly silent.

It wasn't a cliff face but by the feel of their heart beats it might as well have been.

"I'm sorry.. " he whispers, his adrenaline spiking from the shock. "Please, just slow down." He says through jagged breaths realising they were both on the cusp of face planting down the rocky trail. "We don't need a visit to the ER today."

He still hasn't let go and can feel the sweat beneath her tank, beads of his own intermingling with hers as her lungs fill and expand beneath his palms. A flock of birds soar above their heads and for a brief moment he wishes they could both have that same freedom. She smells like wilderness, sunscreen and flora and in a moment where she'd be picturing all the ways in which she was in danger he is picturing what it would be like to press his lips up against the back of her flushed, perspiring neck.

"I can't do this." The whisper is so quiet he isn't even sure he had heard it.

He doesn't know what she is referring to.

The cabin.

The threat.

Him.

He swallows, attempting to remain calm. "The only thing that has changed is the information," he tells her through chapped lips. "Thompson isn't any closer. It's just your perception of the threat that's altered. You're as safe as you were 30 minutes ago Liv."

It's not a lie, but it feels like one.

He closes his eyes against the harsh sun, still not entirely sure how she is reacting to his words, to his presence, to his continued hold on her. Silence. No swiping, no swooshing, no batting, just distant cawing sounds from liberated birds long since dispersed.

"You good?" He asks quietly, knowing he needs to let her go.

He loosens his hands regardless of a response but that's when he catches it - the briefest swipe of her hand against the back of his, fleeting but purposeful. She's still not facing him but he senses words she has to say sifting around the air taunting them both.

Then it's seconds before she is moving out of his hold, grasping her stray water bottle from the bushes and making her descent down the track.

He follows her this time at a far slower pace.


He pulls back for the remainder of the walk, wanting to give her space.

He has ascertained she's no longer a flight risk but it's this new dynamic he is still now struggling with.

Him with a glock, her without.

Him with the knowledge, her without.

Him as the detective, her as the civilian..

This would be an entirely different story if the subject he was guarding wasn't his capable, trained partner but he doesn't know where to draw the line with her out here. Not to mention that he had nearly sent her careening down a rickety track just now.

As they come to the end of the thick foliage, he watches her move through the bushes and reach the house first.

She knows they need to check the surrounds before they enter but he watches her stubbornly move through the sliding glass doors regardless.

He shakes his head, ascending the steps to the cabin, quickening his pace as he makes his way into the house. Her bedroom door is wide open so he walks in without knocking, stopping suddenly when he sees a full view of her bronze flushed stomach, ample cleavage and tussled hair coming into view as she strips off her tank.

"Sorry," he apologises, not realising she'd be in a state of undress. "I ah.."

She tosses the tank onto a pile of clothes in the corner, seemingly unbothered as if they do this all the time, have casual shirtless conversations in sports bras and leggings.

"I'm going to do a perimeter sweep." He finishes off, keeping his eyes trained on her face only, biting his tongue from explaining that was the reason he had stormed in here.

"Okay," she responds. "I'm gonna shower." Her eyes motion towards the bathroom as if it's obvious he needs to leave so she can do so.

He nods then, turning slowly on his heels and gently closing the bedroom door between them.


He had checked all the internal rooms and he was half way through his perimeter search when he sees a form emerge from the sliding doors.

She is sporting jeans, a black t-shirt with a pair of sunglasses that mask her face.

He doesn't know what that was in her bedroom, whether she was purposefully trying to feign comfortability with him or if she was done trying to keep boundaries living in such close proximity.

He notices she is moving out of the house briskly, with something in her hands and his steps progress into a light run when he realises it's her wallet and keys.

He follows her path towards the car.

"Liv." He calls out. "Wait." He catches up to her. "What are you doing?"

She barely looks in his direction before she is pulling open the door to the car. "I need to go into town."

He moves forward, a hand coming out and slamming it just as firmly closed as it was opened.

He steps in front of the door, blocking her from opening it.

"Liv just talk to me." He whispers, thrown by her sudden 180 assuming they had been on the same page.

"I just need to grab something Elliot, it's not a big deal."

She tries to side step him then and he follows her step for step.

"Not a big deal?" He whispers, to her bowed head trying to get her to look at him. "Seriously?"

She raises her sunnies onto her head, the intensity of her direct eye contact suddenly throwing him.

"Yeah Elliot," she furrows her eyebrows at him. "Like you said, nothing's changed.. right?"

He is pissed as hell that she is using her words against him and lets out a loud sigh before he continues.

"You wanna give this a minute to land Liv? What could possibly be so important?"

She looks away briefly before her eyes return to his. "Pyjama pants."

Silence.

"I need some new ones." She explains.

He shakes his head in confusion, completely thrown by her answer.

"Look Liv, I get that you're thrown right now.. but do you really think a town full of bustling tourist is the best place for you?"

She's looking towards the tall trees and it occurs to him in that moment that maybe she doesn't want to slow down, maybe she doesn't want to remain stationary and think about all of the awful scenarios he had just painted for her, maybe she was just desperately trying to keep herself busy.

"Okay.." he softens his stance. "But I'm taking you," he tells her. "Just give me a second to change and we'll go."

He begins to step towards the house but she stops him with her words.

"I'd prefer to go alone."

He turns back to her.

"Olivia." He grits, his fingers curling over in frustration as he walks back to her. "You know I can't do that."

And there it is, the dynamic they have found themselves in.

The detective and the civilian.

She has lost all rights to her freedom now and she knows it.

She goes, he goes.

The keys jingle in her hands and her eyes trace his with intensity like it's a stand off.

"You can't stop me Elliot," she whispers through a terse breath and he doesn't know if it's a threat or a challenge but he can't escape the feeling that she's baiting him.

"Don't make this harder on me."

Her eyebrows raise at that. "Harder on you?" she scoffs. "Right, I can see this is real hard for you Elliot. I'm sorry you're having such a hard time with it." She moves forward then opening the car door with force and he launches forward without thinking, grabbing her upper arm with one hand tugging her backwards, his other going straight for the keys.

She resists him and they struggle against each other.

She shouldn't be driving.

That's all he is thinking.

That is how he is excusing touching her right now.

She cannot be on the roads in this state.

She can hate him for this if she wants.

"This is not negotiable Olivia," he rasps into the back of her hair.

She shoves herself backwards trying to knock him off centre, small sounds of exertion are coming out of her. Stop, he wants to plead, his mind reeling at all the ways in which she is making him confine her. She isn't tapering down and he knows this struggle is only going to escalate if he doesn't let go.

He shifts gears suddenly, pulling her into a backwards hug instead and he feels her body tense in surprise. "I can't do this Liv." His voice trembles, his adam apple bobbing furiously as he swallows against her hair. "Not with you okay," he takes a breath, his heart racing an absolute mile, at a complete loss as to how to handle this.

How to handle her.

"I'm not the enemy here," he whispers as distant emotion threatens to rise in his throat. "Please don't make me one."

There are no flocks of birds above to distract him, not even a hint of wind to rustle their clothes in this dry heat.

When silence is all she offers he loosens his hold, realising in that moment that she is right, he cannot stop her.

He cannot watch her 24/7, he cannot lock her in the cabin for weeks on end, he is going to have to learn to trust that she won't run.

He steps back and watches her in front of him free, but unmoving.

"I can't lose you," he whispers to the back of her head, the emotion compounding in his chest and pricking at his irises. "I refuse to."

He doesn't know if it's his words or the space he has given her but she is turning around, her stance visibly softening as her eyes slowly lift up to his.

He watches her then, a light breeze finally kicking up and lifting the ends of her hair into a light dance.

"I'm going to need to borrow some sweats." She says quietly.

Then it's a few brief moments before she closes the car door and heads back to the cabin without another word.

TBC